The Paradox of 4:05 A.M: A Poem of Codependency and Reclusion

I have so much to say, and nothing suffices
The honest truth is, I just want to cry
Enough violence of my energy marks being assaulted
My silence comes from expecting nothing less than the obvious
Misunderstanding, awkwardness, overall shyness.
I acquiesce solely out of exhaustion.
Closed captions underneath both of our eyelids
Touch my cheek with your hands as I squeeze them as tight-
as me clinching onto my blade ’cause paranoia has taught me to fight
Slightly understand the plight of women walking at night
I want to enjoy the things that so many like
Tired of looking into your eyes without me inside
of you
I drift off into codependency, where I’m rarely absolved.
Connected. I dissociate and stare off into space.
Finding it odd – an atheist when I’m alone in the dark
Having interrogations with God. Asking them who sent you.
My disposition to avoid pain has rendered me recluse.
My character arc is a biblical miscue
Noah memory thoughts, Euphrates flooding with  ‘I love Yous’ & ‘miss Yous’
We’re barely a speck. A floating rock in oblivion
Literally looking for something on the cusp of existence
Most of what my therapist says, I think is a trick
When I’m writing in my journal, I can feel you touching my wrist
I don’t know if I’m supposed to be thinking like this
My first poem titled: My last healthy relationship doesn’t exist.